


Unexpected, But Not Unwanted

by orderlychaos



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, adorableness, mentions of Lucky, mentions of other relationships, puppy, sort of a mashup of MCU and Hawkguy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 03:20:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7417582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orderlychaos/pseuds/orderlychaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Phil let out a breath.  Okay, so it probably wasn’t parallel universes or ninjas.  Clint, we don’t have a son, Phil replied.  What’s going on?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Phil’s phone dinged again.  Phil, how could you say that?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The words were followed by the photo of a slightly wet and very adorable puppy.  It appeared to be at least 80% corgi, with big brown eyes and one ear flopping down as it gazed soulfully up at the camera.  The purple accent tiles in the background proved it was definitely the sink in their apartment that the puppy was sprawled out in, as did a very familiar, calloused hand scritching the puppy’s tummy.  Phil sighed.  There was no way this was ending well.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clint finds a puppy.  Phil (not so) reluctantly agrees to keep him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected, But Not Unwanted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheGirlInTheB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlInTheB/gifts).



> Inspired by an image I saw, but also because this is a belated birthday present. Happy Birthday!

Phil Coulson had almost finished dealing with his giant stack of paperwork when his phone beeped.  Glancing at the clock, he winced, because he was running late and his husband has probably already decided to have dinner without him.  Not that Phil blamed him, but he missed cuddling up on the couch, Clint pressed against his side as they both ignored whatever was on TV.

Sighing, he checked the message: _do you want the good news or the bad news?_

Phil’s mind immediately spun through several scenarios that started with Clint locking himself out of their apartment (again), and ended in some sort of ninja attack.   _Are you okay?_ he typed back.

_Not that kind of bad news, babe,_ Clint messaged back.  Then, _our son made a mess in the sink._

Eyebrows raised, Phil stared at the text for a while.  Unless he’d lost time somewhere (and at SHIELD, it had been known to happen), he and Clint didn’t _have_ a son.  Maybe Phil needed to worry about parallel universes?  Had R &D been messing with experimental quantum physics again?  Or maybe the Avengers had been called out?

_Hotel Alpha Whiskey Kilo,_ Phil sent back.  The passcode was old, but it was theirs, and if anything strange was going on, Clint would either text him the distress code in reply, or something that wasn’t _his_ Clint’s answer.  Either way, Phil would know what he was dealing with.

_Okay, that went kind of panicky faster than I thought.  Golf Uniform Yankee._

Phil let out a breath.  Okay, so it probably wasn’t parallel universes or ninjas.   _Clint, we don’t have a son,_ Phil replied.   _What’s going on?_

Phil’s phone dinged again.   _Phil, how could you say that?_

The words were followed by the photo of a slightly wet and very adorable puppy.  It appeared to be at least 80% corgi, with big brown eyes and one ear flopping down as it gazed soulfully up at the camera.  The purple accent tiles in the background proved it was definitely the sink in their apartment that the puppy was sprawled out in, as did a very familiar, calloused hand scritching the puppy’s tummy.  Phil sighed.  There was no way this was ending well.

He glanced at the next text.   _Meet General Chester Phillips Coulson II_.

Oh, crap.  Clint had _named_ the puppy.  They weren’t getting rid of him now.  Particularly since Clint had tried to be sneaky by partially naming the dog after Phil’s mother’s uncle (and the man responsible for Phil’s trading card collection).  Phil huffed, but the longer he stared at the photo, the more his lips wanted to curve up into a smile.  The mix of chaos and warmth Clint brought to his life wasn’t a surprise, not after the way Clint had crashed into his life ten years ago, but Phil did try to hide how endearing he found it.  It wouldn’t do him any favours for Clint to find out how tightly he had Phil wrapped around his finger.

_I’m not even going to ask where you found him_ , Phil sent to Clint.   _I’m on my way home._

_But you didn’t even ask what the good news was!_ Clint replied.  Followed by, _are you mad?_

Phil’s phone rang before he had a chance to send anything back.  “I swear I didn’t set out to keep him,” Clint explained in a rush after Phil answered.  “I was just going to keep him overnight until we could take him to the vet, but he’s so tiny and cute, and Lucky loves him already, and someone left him in a _dumpster_ , Phil.  What kind of asshole leaves a cute, defenseless ball of fluff in a _dumpster_?”

“Clearly an evil one,” Phil said dryly, but he was still fighting a smile.  Giving up on his paperwork, he began securing his files so he could leave.  He could finish the rest in the morning.

“Exactly!” Clint said, the thread of anger still audible in his voice.  Nick was always complaining about _Phil’s_ urge to pick up strays, but it was Clint’s compassion for people -- and animals -- in trouble was how they’d ended up with a scary, Russian assassin and about three dozen highly capable junior agents.

“They had to be Hydra or something,” Clint muttered.  He drew in a breath, but nothing followed except loud silence.

“Clint?” Phil said.

“Are you mad?” Clint asked.

“No, I’m not mad,” Phil reassured his husband, the phone caught between his ear and shoulder as he packed his briefcase.

“You sure?” Clint said quietly.

Phil cursed inwardly, hating every single person in Clint’s past that had mistreated him, or gotten angry with Clint for just being who he was.  “I knew about your tendency to pick up strays when I married you, Clint, and I haven’t regretted my choice for a single second,” Phil said, because words would have to do until he could give his husband a hug.

“I love you, too, Phil,” Clint said softly.

Phil smiled and grabbed his coat.  “So what’s the good news?” he asked.

“I bought cupcakes from that place you like for dessert?” Clint replied.  “Also, we totally have a cute, adorable puppy now?”

“And if I threaten to take him to a shelter tomorrow morning?” Phil said, mostly for argument’s sake.

Clint gasped theatrically, proving, like always, that he saw right through Phil.  “You can’t abandon Chester, Phil!  He’s too fluffy!”

Phil sighed.  “Just don’t let him pee on anything before I get home,” he said.

~*~

When Phil opened the door to his and Clint’s apartment, he was confronted by the most pathetic case of puppy dog eyes he’d _ever seen_ , and they didn’t even come from his husband.  He sighed.  How was this his life?  Hell, even _Lucky_ didn’t make eyes like this when he wanted the last slice of pizza.  As if sensing weakness, Chester whined pitifully.  He was even tinier than he’d looked in the photo, fluffier now that he was dry.  He was curled up in a towel, held securely in Clint’s arms, his eyes big, dark and beseeching.

“You’re totally coming around to the idea of keeping him, aren’t you?” Clint said.

Phil sighed again, closing the door behind him, and setting down his briefcase.  “This is blatantly unfair,” he said.  “How am I supposed to say no to those eyes?”

Clint groaned.  “Oh, I _know_.  Why the hell do you think I brought him home,” he said.

Giving in, Phil stepped forward to scratch behind Chester’s ears, and Chester let out a little doggie sigh in bliss.  Chester’s fur was as soft as it looked, but the poor puppy was thinner than he should be, even if he was possibly the runt of a litter.  “We’re not home enough to take care of a puppy,” he protested half-heartedly.  “The only reason we have Lucky is because your tenants feed him and he mostly takes care of himself.”

“I know,” Clint said.  “I’ve already had this argument with Chester, but then he used those eyes on me and I couldn’t even get mad that he peed on my jeans.”

Phil huffed.  “We’re really bad at this, aren’t we?”

Clint hummed.  “Don’t tell Nick,” he said.  He leaned forward to give Phil a kiss, momentarily distracting Phil from the puppy.  “Welcome home.”

“Hey,” Phil said.

Clint nudged Phil in the direction of their bedroom.  “Go change,” he said.  “I’ve got dinner staying warm in the oven for you.  We can argue about what we’re doing with Chester while you eat.”

“I’m going,” Phil grumbled, but he did as he was directed.

His favourite pajama pants and his old Rangers shirt were already waiting for him on the bed, and Phil smiled.  Clint didn’t coddle Phil, but he did make sure Phil was looked after.  A thought struck him as he unbuttoned his shirt.  “You know, Nick might not be a bad idea,” he called out.

“Because we _want_ him to tease us for the rest of our natural lives?” Clint said, his voice a lot closer than Phil was expecting.

Phil glanced over his shoulder to find Clint lounging in the doorway, unabashedly watching Phil strip, Chester still in his arms.  He was idly scratching Chester’s chin as the puppy attempted to lick Clint’s fingers.  Phil arched an eyebrow, but continued to pull off his shirt.  “No, I mean as a puppy-sitter,” he said.  “Nick has that big house just outside DC, so Chester would have plenty of space to run around when he gets a bit bigger, and Nick’s home more often than we are at the moment.”

“Yes, but Phil, we live in New York,” Clint countered.  “What are you going to do?  Ship Chester off on a quinjet?”

Phil turned, now only dressed in his boxers, to hang up his suit.  “I was thinking we could when we both have extended missions?” he said.  “Particularly if Jasper’s on the same one.  That way the puppy can distract Nick from missing him.”  Phil hummed, another thought striking him.  “There’s Maria, too.  She could puppy-sit Chester whenever Sharon’s out of town.”

“Phil,” Clint said, a fondly exasperated smile on his face.  “Are you proposing that Chester becomes a companion-dog for senior SHIELD agents missing their spouses?”

“Why not?” Phil replied, pausing as he pulled on his pajama pants.  “That way we’d always be guaranteed a puppy sitter, and we could boost efficiency at the same time.”

Clint huffed.  “You’re such a dork,” he said.

Stepping forward, Clint slipped his free arm around Phil’s waist and gently tugged him in for a kiss.  Careful of the puppy, Phil slid his hand under Clint’s t-shirt, pressing his palm to the small of Clint’s back.  He’d expected Clint to pull away after a moment and hustle him towards dinner, but instead, the kiss deepened as Clint sank a little firmer against Phil’s chest.  Phil wasn’t about to complain, losing himself to the familiar heat of his husband until something warm and wet licked his chest.

Grunting, Phil pulled back and glanced down, but Chester just stared up at him with big innocent eyes.  Sighing, he looked up at Clint, but Clint’s expression was almost exactly the same as Chester’s.  “You’re a menace,” he said, not sure which of the two he was directing his words to.

Clint grinned.  “And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said.

Phil shook his head, but he couldn’t stop him smile.  “No, I guess not,” he agreed.

 

End.


End file.
